


90 Miles Per Hour

by Atumun15



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Biker Gang, Cigarettes, Drug Use, Guns, M/M, Murder, Slow Burn, Violence, angsty, but lowkey soft, jeongho, jeongin is a baby, mentions of abuse, minho's baby, theres actual abuse, this was supposed to be short, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 08:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15092660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atumun15/pseuds/Atumun15
Summary: It takes a special kind of person to love Lee Minho.





	90 Miles Per Hour

**Author's Note:**

> * THIS WAS NOT EDITED SO THE MISTAKES HERE ARE PROBABLY UNENDING SO I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY.* 
> 
> Also like... this was supposed to be short.... like 5k max.
> 
> but nah
> 
> that's not the Vesper ways apparently.

Minho loved the road more than anything in the world. There was just something about going over 90 miles per hour on the highway with his bike that was entirely euphoric. The only thing a person could hear at those kinds of speeds was the hum of the engine and the thunder of the air. It was addicting to him, the only thing Minho could stay loyal to, all but his bike of course. Perhaps his love for the road and the thrill of it is what kept him from visiting home, visiting his family, and staying put in one place. Or maybe the effects had been the cause.

 

Minho hated his home town, hated everybody in it too.

 

But as much as Minho loved the road, it got lonely. He had to make do with a few flings from town to town to ease the loneliness in his heart, but it was always going to linger there. No matter what. Minho needed his person on the road, someone who would ride with him and share the same love he had for the thrill, but that seemed unbearably hard to find. Not just anyone could handle Lee Minho and his apathetic tendencies. It took a special kind of person to put up with him, and those special kind of people were all the way in Seoul while Minho was coming up on a small town just outside of Busan.

 

He could feel their eyes on him, on the leather on his back. He knew they were sparing him nasty looks and avoiding him, like he was some sort of plague, and in a way, Minho was. He was toxic in the eyes of their society because he didn’t settle, unafraid to speak his mind, and wore who he was proudly. Minho was a force to be reckoned with, and everyone who came across him knew that. He was as dangerous as he was smart, and he made sure people knew that. Perhaps that’s why he arrived in this small town right when people began to wake up and see him, to offer them a good morning present that was more of a curse than a blessing.

 

He pulled up to a motel on his bike, stopping in one of the spots by the office and pulling off his helmet. It was small and trashy, the rooms no doubt having been left uncleaned in a little over a month, and Minho was curious as to what he could possibly find inside. However, he sat on his bike for a moment, digging through his pockets and pulling out his lighter and cigarette box. He lit the stick in his mouth, cupping the lit flame so it stayed right where it needed to be, and then flicked the lighter off before stuffing it in his pockets.

 

He took a few puffs, simply enjoying the breeze of the early morning and looking around. He could see multiple kids going to school and people beginning to show themselves to the world. But it was early enough for the sun to not yet be all the way up in the sky and the streets to still be considered quiet. Across the rather lonely street was a boy in a yellow high school uniform with his dark, raven hair hanging in his eyes. He was cute, Minho would admit, but he was no pedophile. The kid standing there, waiting for his bus to arrive, began to fidget as time passed and more and more kids began to arrive at the stop. Minho just watched him.

 

Minho wasn’t even entirely sure if the kid was looking at him due to the long bangs that covered his eyes, but Minho thought he’d give it a shot and wink towards the boy. The younger’s head flickered down and a bit more color came to his sickly pale cheeks. Minho left him alone after that, dropping his cigarette and squashing it before grabbing his bag off of the back of his bike and heading into the main office. “Room for one, please.” Minho leaned across the counter, eyeing the middle aged woman behind it with a bored look in his eyes.

 

“How long are you staying?”

 

“Three nights.”  The lady handed over the key after Minho slammed some money on the counter, not even bothering to say thank you. Minho strutted towards his room, unlocking the door and finding himself looking back towards where the high schooler had been and saw that he was still there, except there were a few guys around him, messing about with him and if Minho wasn’t so exhausted, he probably would have intervened. However, acting as some sort of barrier, a school bus pulled up and blocked his few of the students, Minho snapping out of his curious daze and storming into the motel room only to kick the door behind him and falling face first into the hard, uncomfortable motel bed.

  


“Yo! Yang!” Jeongin kept his head low, trying his best to leave his lip out from between his teeth incase they decided to hit him. It wouldn’t be the first time his lip had busted from the force of his teeth, but he’d rather avoid it if he could.  Suddenly, a hard slap came to his head, his greasy bangs lifting from his eyes for a moment as his head jerked forward, “You try this every morning, fag, when will you learn that I’m talking to you.” His efforts to keep his lip out from between his teeth failed when fingers grasped his locks and tugged his head back, Jeongin gnawing on the skin to keep his whimpers of pain from escaping.

 

The fingers let go of his hair, the kid muttering about not wanting to get ‘infected’ and Jeongin felt his heart plummet. Why did it have to be him, of all people? Why did it have to be the boy he liked that wanted to quite literally rip his heart out of his chest. Jeongin didn’t say a word, just slipping his ear buds into his ears and blocking out the insults flying his way left and right. Jeongin wanted it to stop, he _needed_ it to stop, but it seemed that his life was just an endless beating to his poor, malnutricened body. The bus stopped, and suddenly a hand grabbed the back of his neck tightly, practically throwing him out of the bus. “Behind the school during lunch, fag.”  The boy spat, leaving Jeongin on the ground.

 

Jeongin waited until all of the kids had passed before getting up with shaking limbs and quiet grunts. When he was finally up on his feet, he was panting and internally dreading bending down to grab his bag. But Jeongin put up with it, grabbing it after missing the straps a few times and hoisting it on to his back. He knew the bell was about to ring so fast walked inside, ignoring his aching neck and the nagging in the back of his head telling him to skip town now and never come back. He couldn’t do that just yet, not when his birthday was a few months away. “Mr, Yang! Walk a bit faster will you?” A teacher Jeongin had seen too many times but still didn’t know the name of scolded him as if he were one of the more intolerable students at the school.

 

Jeongin didn’t talk back. He never did. He went to class, took his notes, did his assignments, passed his tests, and stayed quiet. Jeongin never did anything to provoke hate towards him, he was respectful to everyone, but people were just unnecessarily cruel because of _who_ he was. Jeongin wasn’t just the gay kid at school anymore, he was the mayor’s son, the man who took away their privileges and put strict rules onto the county. They couldn’t take it out on the man, so they did the best big thing. His son. However, there was always a bit of irony to it because no one hated Jeongin more than Jeongin hated himself, and the hatred the students had for him had nothing on his father. In fact, instead of angering the mayor, they made him proud.

 

Because one minute Jeongin was being beat at school, he was also getting beaten at home. It was some sort of sick joke that they don’t have the nerve to kick him out and it only proves his role as his father’s personal punching bag. His classroom was quiet, the only thing being heard was the sound of pencil on paper and the occasional flipping of a page. The boy beside him kept occasionally glancing at him, Jeongin feeling tears spring to his eyes when his hand landed on Jeongin’s thigh. He tried to subtly nudge it off of him, not wanting anyone to see, and make a big deal out of it.

 

But the boy kept placing it there, tightening his grip every time until his nails were digging into the skin there, drawing blood. Jeongin let out a tiny cry, lowering his head and gnawing on the abused flesh. “Please stop.”  Jeongin whispered but the boy merely loosened his grip and began to rub slowly, coaxing Jeongin into a state of pure discomfort. They were in the back of the class, so no one was behind him and it was less of a risk of being seen. So perhaps that’s why the student leaned close to Jeongin’s ear and let his lips move against the shell of his ear.

 

“I thought you liked this shit, fag?”  Jeongin flinched at his tone, feeling his peer’s spit on his ear and resisting the urge to wipe it off and potentially set him off. There wasn’t much he could do, he just had to suffer through with it until the end of class. However, the teacher called him up, the boy removing his hand from Jeongin’s thigh and pacing up to the front. Much to Jeongin’s relief, the boy ended up leaving, but as quickly as relief flooded his system, fear wasn’t far behind because the teacher followed and the classroom was left unattended. Jeongin knew that his first beating wouldn’t be from the boys on the bus at lunch, but in this class instead.

 

“Hey, fag, I saw you rubbing up on Sooyoung. Don’t infect him.”  One of the girls spat from beside him, Jeongin flinching but not responding to the girl. The sound of a chair scraping against the ground roughly was heard before a hand landed on the back of his head and his face was slammed down into his desk with so much force, he started bleeding. Jeongin let a gasp fall from his mouth when his head was dragged back up and all of the blood rushed around his throbbing face. “She’s coming back.” The girl suddenly hissed, whoever had grabbed him letting Jeongin go and racing back to his seat, leaving Jeongin trembling in his seat.

 

When the teacher came back in, the boy from before wasn’t behind her, but Jeongin didn’t know that for sure as he kept his head tilted down and letting the blood drip down onto his lap. He just presumed because no one ever came to sit down next to him and Jeongin was relieved to see that. So, he slowly bent down to grab some of spare tissues he kept at the bottom of his bag and pressed them up against his aching nose with a wince, finishing his assignment. He took it up to his teacher, placing it in the tray at the front, “May I go to the restroom?”  The teacher huffed, setting the pen down roughly and glaring up at him. “Please?”

 

“Take the pass.” The woman spat, glancing back down at her papers and Jeongin nodded quickly, grabbing the pass and ducking out of the room all within a single breath. Everything hurt as he raced to the bathroom, the blood flowing a bit more rapidly the more he moved and it was beginning to soak through the tissues and dripping on the school tiles. By the time Jeongin reached the bathroom, his hands were covered in blood and tears were threatening to escape his eyes. But Jeongin held them in, and washed his hands free of his own blood. He ended up stuffing some paper towels up his nose to hinder the bleeding, but Jeongin didn’t think it was broken.

 

Jeongin needed to get out, he didn’t care that his beating tomorrow would be worse. He needed out. So, he left. He waited until class was over, escaping into one of the abandoned wings and climbing through the window with his backpack. It was a lot harder than it should have been considering he was so light, but Jeongin doesn’t remember the last time he ate something and his body was weak. Jeongin would find some food at some point, but it probably wouldn’t have been that afternoon if it wasn’t for his mindless wandering.

  


A half of a cigarette hung from Minho’s mouth as he stared at the books and maps in front of him, trying to figure out what he was going to do next. Being a nomad didn’t come with the crime of being a brother, but it did mean that you were on your own. Being a nomad meant more freedom, but you had to learn to survive on your own. You didn’t have someone to back you up outside of a region, and even then, some of the charters would hesitate to help a nomad. There was a stigma about them, that they were disloyal as they didn’t stick to a specific region, but the brothers was a pact, a loyalty to the club, not just the region. Minho was _loyal_ , but only to his club.

 

He debated leaving Korea as a whole, but that meant he’d have to leave his bike and Minho loved his bike too much for that. So, maybe he’d go deeper south, past Busan and go to the coast for the time being. At least until he figures out how he’s going to make more money. Minho heard slow, prolonged footsteps approach him but he didn’t look up, not until blood covered school shoes walked past him. Minho flickered his head up, seeing the same kid from this morning but with a bloodied, swollen nose. Minho was going to leave it be, expecting the kid to walk past, but he ended up sitting on the same wall Minho had been leaned up against just a few yards down.

 

The student kept cupping his nose, obviously trying to mask his whimpers of pain but failing miserably. Minho shut his journal, getting up and off of the ground with his cigarette still in his mouth and ventured into his room to grab a shirt before heading over to the ice machine. Minho rounded the corner not long after that, ice wrapped up in a thick shirt in hand and his cigarette in the other. “Here.” He muttered, towering over the sitting boy. “It’ll help with the swelling.”  His voice hadn’t been comforting, but it wasn’t intimidating by any means either. The kid took the ice pack with a slight nod, pressing it to his nose and leaning against the wall with a sigh.

 

No words were exchanged after that for a while, Minho too entranced in his plans to really try and partake in conversation with this high schooler. But after too many times hearing the growling of a stomach and tiny, muffled whimpers, Minho finally broke the silence. “You not eat this morning, kid?”  The student shook his head. Minho stared at him for a moment, obviously weighing his options. Minho didn’t know what was going on in this kids life, and he wasn’t going to assume anything and give him pity, but just for the sake of maybe making his day a bit better, Minho was going to try anyway. “Do you want to go get some lunch? I’ll pay.”  

 

The high schooler gazed at the biker cautiously, thinking of all the ways this could go terribly wrong. “You don’t have to come. Just an offer.” Minho pointed out, gathering all of his things up into his arms. “I’ll let you think on it.” The biker took all of his things into his room, leaving the high schooler sat on the ground. Minho stuffed everything into his bag, grabbing his wallet off of the nightstand and throwing his leather on before leaving the room. Now, the high schooler was stood up, backpack on and soaking wet t-shirt in hand from where all the ice had melted. The high schooler held it out to the biker shyly, not quite sure what to do with it.

 

Minho took it in his hands, stretching it out over the street and ringing all the water out of it. The high schooler seemed embarrassed that he hadn’t thought about that before, but it didn’t seem to bother the biker as he turned back to him. “Can you keep this in your bag until we part ways?” The high schooler merely answered by turning his back towards the biker and offering him his backpack. Minho found a pocket that didn’t have any papers in it and rolled the t-shirt into it. “Let’s go, kid.” The biker guided them down the street, walking on the high schooler’s right and gripping his left shoulder firmly.

 

When they reached a small restaurant on the outskirts of town with neon lighting and peanut shells on the ground, Minho treated the high schooler kindly. He learned that his name was Jeongin, and that he was in his last year of highschool before he graduated in two months, turning 20 the week before his ceremony. “This place feels nice. Bit odd, but it’s nice.” Minho murmured, ignoring the bitter feeling in his chest. It reminded him of the club house back in Seoul. Jeongin nodded, breaking open a peanut and pushing his bangs back out of his eyes.

 

“It’s some American restaurant in the south. I’ve heard a lot of praise.” Jeongin shrugged, Minho humming. Jeongin observed the biker for a moment, taking in his features. Minho was handsome to say the least. His nose was small and button like, a mole on his left nostril, and his lips weren’t overly huge but just the right size, the skin there smooth and pillowy. He looked angelic, as if he wasn’t supposed to be an angry, smoker biker, but his eyes told that truth. They were fierce, but mischievous, more intimidating than the whole look Minho had going on. However, Jeongin snapped out of his trance when those same eyes locked with his.

 

“What are you looking at, kid?”

 

“Nothing… Sorry.” Jeongin whispered, and Minho was growing more and more intrigued. “Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer it.” Minho’s eyebrows quirked up at that request, but didn’t deny him it either. “I know almost everyone here, and I saw you ride in this morning… You’re not from here.” Jeongin murmured, not quite sure what he was even asking at this point but Minho seemed to have a pretty good idea and leaned forward and clasping his hands together. As much as Minho wanted to go ahead and answer this question, jeongin needed to learn to use his words. _To speak up for himself._ “You know…” Jeongin trailed off, nibbling on his lower lip but Minho just rested his chin in his palm.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t, kid.”

 

Jeongin sucked in a sharp breath, nodding his head in understanding. He knew what Minho was doing and perhaps that understanding is what gave him a bit more confidence, a bit more hope. “Where are you from? I want to know who you are.” Minho hummed in satisfaction, leaning back in his seat and letting out a breath of what looked like exhaustion and maybe even relief. Like he needed to do that. “You don’t have to answer of course! I know it’s personal and none of my -” Jeongin stopped when Minho let out a giggle that didn’t seem to match him at all but made the tips of his ears red anyway. Minho reached out, placing his hand on the table and Jeongin stared at them. “Your hands are so small…” He trailed off without thinking.

 

Once Jeongin realized what he said, he covered his face in embarrassment, apologizing profusely and while Minho would normally get angry for the teasing of his hands, he found Jeongin incredibly endearing and couldn’t bring himself to scold him. “I’m from Gimpo, but I lived in Seoul for five years and ditched town around a year ago. I’ve gone nomad.” Minho informed with a tiny smile and while it was interesting to know what Minho did, disappointment fluttered in Jeongin’s chest when he realized that Minho wasn’t staying. Minho wasn’t here for good and he had absolutely no idea when this new man was leaving. Minho seemed to see this shift in Jeongin’s mood, “I’ll be in town for a few days though.” It was untrue… but perhaps Minho could stay for a few more days.

 

Minho took Jeongin home that night, at least to the edge of the block as Jeongin seemed to grow more and more anxious the closer they got to Jeongin’s home. “Take care, kid. Put some more ice on that nose of yours.”  Minho patted the high schooler on the back of the head before parting ways. Jeongin wanted to reach out and grab Minho, beg him to take him anywhere but home, but he just watched Minho walk away, the symbol of the blood brothers on the back of his leather. Rather ironic Jeongin felt safer with a criminal than he did at his own home.

 

He was dreading the idea of going back, but Jeongin did anyway, thankful that school was already out for the afternoon and the sun was beginning to set. When Jeongin made it back, he dug his keys out of his pockets and opened the fancy, pristine white door with a satisfying click. It opened without a squeak, Jeongin stepping through the door and sucking in a harsh breath when he heard his step mother singing in the kitchen. “Jeongin? Is that you?” There was something sharp to her voice, but Jeongin wasn’t agitated. He was fearful.

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”  He shut the door behind him, not getting very far before the door to the house slammed back open and his father came in calmly. Too calmly. “Hello, sir.” Jeongin gulped, shrinking back underneath the intense gaze of his father. The man said nothing, brushing past him and walking into the kitchen. Jeongin ignored the two, racing up to his room as to not set either one of them off and set his bag down. However, before he could go to tug out his books to do his homework, his father came through the door, looking angry. “Is something wrong, sir?”

 

Jeongin’s father’s eyes darkened considerably, “Yes, Jeongin. Something is very wrong.” Jeongin gulped, watching the man sit down on his bed and bury his face in his hands. “I got a call from your teachers today, telling me that you skipped the last half of the school day…” He grunted, lifting himself off of the bed, “and then, I’m on my way home, and I see my son, walking with a blood brother, _talking_ , _laughing_.”  Jeongin shrunk back in his chair, his father approaching him slowly but with aggression. His father placed his hands on the arm rest, cornering Jeongin into it “Do you want to explain that to me? Why you have a bloody nose, skipped school, and was hanging out with a criminal?”

 

Jeongin wanted to scoff at the use of the word criminal. His father was the biggest one he knew, the man had no right to be calling anyone a criminal when he cheated the election, got more than 100 people killed a few months ago and runs a fucking drug cartel. But Jeongin couldn’t say anything; his father had no idea that he knew about everything and if he did, Jeongin would be dead within the next ten hours. “Well?” His father snapped, slamming his hands down on the armrest to make Jeongin flinch back in fear.

 

“I-I…” What was Jeongin supposed to say? That he was a weakling that ditched school after getting a little roughed up? His father would give him more shit for that excuse than actually having a go at him for skipping class. The man sighed at his son’s stuttering, backing away from him with a click of his tongue. Suddenly, a harsh slap came to Jeongin’s right cheek, the boy letting a gasp fall from his lips as his neck snapped around due to the force. “I’m sorry.” Jeongin whimpered, holding his cheek and trying to keep his breathing at bay.

 

His father merely snorted, shaking his head as he grabbed Jeongin by the hair and dragged him out of his chair. “This is for your own good, Jeongin.” The man breathed, and then Jeongin was hit. Over and over again until his body was beaten and bruised, and then he couldn’t feel anything at all. He was left curled up on the floor of his bedroom, trembling as his father’s movements came to a halt and the only thing Jeongin could hear through his heart beat was the muffled breathing of the man towering over him. His father bent down, placing his hand in Jeongin’s bloodied hair and smoothing it out. “You know I love you right? That I just want what’s best for you?” Jeongin just nodded his head.

 

Jeongin’s father smiled and lifted himself off of the ground. “Good. I better not see you with that criminal again.” And then he left, and Jeongin was stuck trembling on the floor, letting his sobs escape him when the door shut. He was doing this because he loved Jeongin. He wanted what was best for him. Yeah…. That was it. Jeongin crawled towards his back pack, going to dig for anything he could use to clean up the blood but came across the soft, grey material of Minho’s shirt and Jeongin clutched it tightly. He only remembers stripping himself of his clothes and slipping on Minho’s now dry shirt over his body before climbing into bed. Jeongin is pretty sure he fell asleep sobbing that night, but he couldn’t remember much.

  


With messy hair and dark eye bags, Minho escaped out of his motel door with the moon nowhere in sight. It had just gotten dark, and the man had woken up from a long awaited nap to grab some food at the vending machine and maybe go grab a few drinks at the bar down the road. “Come on, come on, come on.” Minho muttered as he slipped the money inside, waiting for his food to fall but it never did, getting stuck last minute and Minho smacked his arm against with an agitated huff. “Fuck!” Luckily for him, he hit it with just enough force, the bag fell and Minho grinned in triumph.

 

Minho bent down to dig for the bag, popping it open as he walked back to his dorm but stopped when he looked up to investigate where the stumbled, slow footsteps came from and saw Jeongin, he freaked. “Jeongin?” The kid glanced up for only a moment, meeting Minho’s worried eyes but as quickly as he looked, Jeongin snapped his head away and began to limp away a bit faster. Minho rushed forward, running in front of him and stopping Jeongin from walking any further. “Hey, hey, what happened?” Minho murmured, gently reaching out to graze his fingers along the boy’s bleeding, and swollen face. However, Jeongin flinched away and Minho’s outstretched fingers curled into a small, non intimidating fist. “Darling…”

 

A sob rung out, Jeongin lowering his head as his body trembled in the middle of the street. Minho didn’t know exactly what to do, just letting Jeongin stumbled forward into his chest and grip his collar weakly. The elder put one hand on the middle of Jeongin’s back, rubbing it up and down soothingly as Jeongin just trembled and hiccuped. “I-It hurts, hyung.” Jeongin whimpered, gasping out a harsh breath when he grazed his nose over Minho’s collar bone and put too much pressure on it. Minho gulped, feeling anger in his chest and protectiveness in his fingers, gently sliding his other hand to cup the back of Jeongin’s neck.

 

“Alright… Alright, kid. Let’s clean you up.” Minho hushed, separating himself from Jeongin’s front and guiding him to Minho’s motel room. “Sit down.” Minho sat Jeongin down on the toilet in the bathroom, pressing him down by the shoulders. Jeongin fidgeted in his seat, flinching when Minho made a sudden movement or there was a sharp noise from outside. What was Jeongin even doing? If someone were to see him with Minho and it got back to his father, he’d get a worse beating then he did last night. Jeongin debated bolting then, running back home in hopes of not pissing off his dad anymore, but he knew even home wasn’t safe. The kids at lunch didn’t give him mercy, beating him until he couldn’t move and was knocked out on the ground.

 

He had only woken up not even thirty minutes ago, managing to lift himself off of the ground and get himself moving, but that was seemingly out of adrenaline as when it began to come down, so did Jeongin.e slumped against the toilet weakly, his head spinning as all the pain in his body began to come back and he was no longer numb from it. “Stay awake for me, kid.” Minho placed his hand gently on Jeongin’s forehead to push his hair back, wrapping a bandana around the pulled back strands to keep them in place. “This is gonna sting.”  Jeongin just scoffed in response. There was no way it was any worse than what it had been before.

 

Minho rolled a q-tip soaked in alcohol across the cuts on Jeongin’s skin, “Well, you don’t need stitches. But you need to keep these cleaned.” Minho uttered after cleaning the last few cuts along his face, rustling through his small bag for bandages. He stopped for a moment remembering that there was no way Jeongin’s face was their only target. “Is there any more?” And based on the way Jeongin’s ears turned red, he knew exactly. “Ah. Okay. They need to be treated, okay? But I understand that you don’t want me to see.” Jeongin nodded in confirmation, realizing that Minho’s statement was actually more of a question. “I’ll leave you with the cleaning supplies. Just do what I did.” Minho murmured and left the room.

 

Instead of grabbing a t-shirt, Minho grabbed for a towell and his wallet to grab some ice from the machine, shutting the door behind him. Minho bundled up the cool ice into the soft towel and was about to walk away but before he could, his phone began to ring. The elder huffed, slamming the ice down on top of the machine and digging for his phone.

 

“Hello?”

 

_“Minho…”_

 

“Fuck. What do you want?”

 

 _“Are you in Busan?”_   


“Just outside of Busan, why?”

 

‘ _“We’re having some issues with a rival there. Would you be -”_

 

“Sure. I don’t have time to talk. Just tell me where it is and I’ll make time for it.”

 

_“The Varser, 2 days from now.”_

 

“I’ll see you then.”

 

Minho stuffed his phone back into his pocket and made a b-line for the motel room, walking back in and knocking lightly on the bathroom door to ask if Jeongin was okay. The door peeked open, Jeongin’s fox eyes appearing shyly. “Do you… Do you have a shirt that I can borrow? I spilled alcohol all over mine.” Minho giggled a bit and nodded, turning his back to the door to dig through his bag and pull out some clothes. “Thank you…” Jeongin whispered, taking the clothes through the crack of the door, temporarily exposing one of the lesser of his torso wounds. Minho let out a gasp at the site of it, pushing through the door and giving him a perfect few of Jeongin’s boney, abused torso and arms.

 

“Holy shit.” Jeongin took his bottom lip between his teeth, looking anywhere but Minho. This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want Minho to see him and he didn’t want his fucking pity. “These are bad, Jeongin. Why didn’t you say anything?” Minho hissed, grabbing some bandages to wrap up the cuts. The younger didn’t say anything. The elder sighed, dropping the matter and smoothing out the bandages wrapped around Jeongin’s torso to make sure they stayed in place. Minho handed him the clean t-shirt and helped it over his shoulders when Jeongin seemed to weak to do anything. “What happened, kid?” Minho finally murmured out, making sure Jeongin didn’t feel cornered on top of the sink counter.

 

Jeongin looked down, staring at one of the tattood hands gripping the sink counter and took it without thinking. Minho’s hand rested between Jeongin’s two, larger but slimmer hands and Jeongin began to stroke along the inked skin. A flower rested on the top of Minho’s hand, ‘Rose’ along the lower segments of his fingers and Jeongin traced along them to keep his breathing calm. “People are just assholes, Hyung.” Jeongin muttered, glancing towards Minho with a slight glare, but it hadn’t been targeted against Minho, but the people who did this to him. “They just don’t know how to treat people that are different like normal human beings.” Minho could see Jeongin getting angrier the more he spoke but his anger didn’t quite hit the nerves in his body. His grip on Minho’s hand remained soft and Minho began to wonder if Jeongin was truly angry.

 

“Who, baby?”

 

Jeongin flushed at the pet name but he didn’t know what to say. Minho was a _blood brother,_ and if he cared about this enough, he’d probably commit murder. “It’s not important.” Jeongin hopped off the counter, pushing past Minho and grabbing for his things but Minho grabbed him gently at the wrist, stopping him from going anywhere. Jeongin froze, lip between his teeth and being abused by the slightly pink stained bones. Jeongin turned towards him, fear evident in his eyes and Minho sighed, pulling him back a bit and into his chest. “Hyung…” Jeongin trailed off, resisting the urge to place his hands on Minho’s chest.

 

“It’s important, Jeongin. It was always be important that you know who hurt you.” Minho murmured, “You’re going to need that. You can forgive, but never forget.” Jeongin wasn’t sure why Minho was advising him on how to live, but he was going to take it. Considering the business he was in, Minho had learned to survive and Jeongin would be damned if he didn’t take advice from a man who had probably been in a lot of shoot outs. “Now, tell me who hurt you, Jeongin.” Minho was more firm this time, moving his hands up to grip the younger’s biceps and giving them a gentle squeeze to coax him.

 

“It’s just a few kids at school.”

 

Minho cocked his head to the side, “But there’s someone else, no?”

 

“My dad.”  A dark look flickered in Minho’s eyes, the elder removing his hands off of Jeongin’s bicep and moving away to grab his jacket. “Hyung? Hyung! No!” Jeongin screeched, grabbing for Minho’s forearm with both of his hands and dragging him back with all of his might. When Minho turned back to face Jeongin with a snarl on his face, but let it drop when he saw the tears brewing in the younger’s eyes. “Don’t do it, Hyung. Please don’t do it. Please, please, please!” Jeongin was near hysterics, knowing that this would escalate too quickly, _that someone would get hurt_.

 

Minho’s face dropped, letting his shoulders relax and fingertips slip from the door knob with a sigh. “Alright, alright, kid.” Minho sighed, Jeongin letting his whole body melt in relief. “But you’re not going home tonight. It’s not safe.” Minho grabbed for the sweatpants resting on the sink counter from earlier and threw them at Jeongin. “I’ll sleep on the ground tonight, and before you argue, don’t.” Minho ordered, escaping into the bathroom to take a shower. Why did everything about this kid feel so right so wrong at the same time? Why did Minho want to protect him? Because Jeongin couldn’t protect himself? Or was it something a bit more?

 

Minho couldn’t tell now. It had only been a few days.

  


“Minho? Hyung.” Minho was shaken awake, his back aching as he rolled over to face where the voice was coming from. The elder opened his eyes, blurry from sleep and came face to face with a slightly more bruised Jeongin. “I have school. I’ll see you later?” Jeongin murmured shyly, and Minho nodded with a sigh. “Alright, okay, get up and get in the actual bed. You’re making me feel bad.” Jeongin ordered, nudging his side with his foot and Minho grunted, rolling over and lifting himself up at the waist.

 

“Hey, wait.” Jeongin swiveled on his feet, facing Minho with a slight pout. “I’ll take you.”

  


“Hyung, I am not getting on that death trap.”

 

Jeongin fidgetted from the door of the motel, watching Minho climb onto the bike with slightly disheveled hair that still looked amazing somehow, and a euphoric grin on his face. “Aw, come on, darling. It’s not that bad.” Minho persisted, offering Jeongin a coaxing smile and Jeongin dared to inch forward. “I’ll keep you safe, kid. Just lean with me, _please_.”  Minho advised, emphasizing that last part with him. Jeongin thought for a moment, rolling his eyes into the back of his head and stomping his foot with a whine. Jeongin stormed forward, letting Minho help him onto the back and taking the spare helmet Minho had and fitting it over his head. “You look cute.” Minho snickered, patting his cheek lightly before pulling out of the parking lot of the motel.

 

Surprisingly enough, Jeongin didn’t hate it. In a way, it was actually really blissful, “That was fun, hyung. Can we go riding some more later?” Minho found it hard to resist the puppy dog look Jeongin had a good portion of the time, and now had been one of those times.

 

“Sure, kid.” Jeongin’s eyes lit up and Minho realized that he wanted to see them that bright and happy all the time. Jeongin passed Minho his helmet and with a tiny wave, he went to go walk off, but Minho called out to him last minute. “Jeongin.” The boy swiveled, “I put my number in your phone last night. If anyone gives you trouble, you call me okay?” Jeongin nodded shyly and walked off after muttering a quick thank you. Minho watched intently, but let his eyes pull away when Jeongin was safely past the doors.

 

Luckily, that call never came. Jeongin came back to the motel room with no fresh injuries and Minho was thankful to see him walk up with a gentle smile. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, sithing the smoke through his teeth before letting it out with a heavy breath. “Hey, kid.” Minho greeted, shutting his journal in his lap and placing the pencil on top. Jeongin bowed his way with only a slight one, sitting next to Minho when the elder patted the concrete beside him. They sat in an empty silence, both leaning against the wall as Jeongin began to dig through his bag to find his class work for the day. “Nerd.” Minho snickered, taking another drag from his cigarette.

 

“Loser.”

 

The two shared a look, faces slowly pulling into smiles and giggles escaping their lips. Minho draped his arm over Jeongin’s shoulder with a burst of laughter and pulled him into his side. “What are you learning?” Minho murmured, his chin hovering over Jeongin’s shoulder, the boy shyly passing Minho his chemistry homework. “Fucking, molar mass. Hated this shit when I took it. Surprisingly good at it though.” Minho chuckled, taking the paper into his hands and grabbing for his pencil before working out some of the problems with ease. However, a few of the things he didn’t recognize, Jeongin pointed out to him, but Minho’s brain seemed to work in ways Jeongin didn’t even realize. Minho was a lot more than just a pretty face on a bike.

 

“You’re really smart, hyung. I’ve been struggling with this for weeks.”

 

“You say that as if you’re surprised.”  Minho grinned and Jeongin looked away shyly, not saying anything in retaliation. Minho bumped his shoulder with his lightly, “Gah, I could see why. Nothing more than a biker, right?” Jeongin’s head snapped up at that, a scowl on his face and to say Minho was caught off guard was an understatement. He wasn’t sure why Jeongin was going to get all defensive over someone like Minho but perhaps it had been just a tiny bit more.

 

“You’re not just a biker, hyung.” Minho chuckled in disbelief, looking away from Jeongin and taking another drag from his cigarette. A thick silence fell over them, Jeongin pondering if he should say what he wanted to say. He figured it couldn’t hurt too much. “My whole life I was told I was nothing.” Jeongin started, never looking up from his pale hands in his lap, “I was told that I would never amount to anything on my own because I was the mayor’s son. That shit fucked me up.” Jeongin didn’t remember where he was going with all of this, “My point is, you’re not just a biker. Just as I’m not the mayor’s son. There is always more to a person than just their appearance.”

 

“You’re a good kid, Jeongin.” Minho hushed, tapping off the extra, burnt ashes of his cigarette with a huff. The silence was a lot less thick and somewhat more comforting as Jeongin finished up his homework and Minho left his small, squashed cigarette on the ground. “You still up for that ride?” Jeongin’s eyes lit up, nodding his head frantically. ‘Well, let’s get you out of this uniform, I’m sure I have some clothes that might fit.” Minho grinned, guiding them into the motel room to get changed.

 

Soon, they were on the road, Jeongin smiling and giggling happily as Minho made sharp turns on the mountain side nearby. In the back of his head, Minho acknowledged this blissfulness, the way Jeongin enjoyed the road nearly as much as Minho did. But as said, it had been in the back of his head. Minho could admit that Jeongin was indeed adorable and that his heart beat in a way that wouldn’t ever beat for someone that was a friend, but Jeongin was young, and broken, and Minho had to respect that. Minho pulled over to one of the sightseeing stations on the side of the mountain, waiting for Jeongin to get off before he did. Minho looked Jeongin up and down, wearing one of his oversized sweater, ripped jeans and a pair of boots with messy hair, and his stomach did a flip. “Hyung?”

 

Minho snapped out of his thoughts, trying his best to swallow the lump in his throat before offering the boy a smile. “Come on.” Minho nodded his head towards the out look, peeling off his gloves and keeping a fair distance away from Jeongin. Minho and Jeongin approached the railing that overlooked the small town right outside of Busan beneath them, and in the distance, you could see the start of the main city. “It’s so quiet.”  Minho claimed, voice barely above a whisper. Jeongin nodded with a gentle hum, sinking his chin down onto his arms that were resting on the railing. “How’d you find this place?”

 

“When my mother was still alive, she’d take me up here some mornings to watch the sunrise. Sometimes before school, sometimes on the weekends, I hated it then, but…”  Jeongin trailed off, letting out a sigh. It wasn’t solemn or bitter, more nostalgic than anything. “I missed it. I miss _her_.” Jeongin began to fiddle with the studs in his ears, twirling the ring on his other hand with his thumb at the same time. He was lucky to still have these items but they weren’t the real deal. “Sometimes they say that the first thing you forget is the way their voice sounds when a person dies… but I can still hear her. I can hear her laugh, I can hear her goodbye when she’s on the phone, and I can still hear her singing me to sleep.”

 

It feels necessary for it to be emphasized that the mood was not sad. Jeongin wasn’t upset over her death and absence, but more basking in his old memories. Perhaps, the only bitter feeling to all of this was the desperate wishful feeling clinging to his fingertips, nipping at them and begging for some sort of  recurrence. “How long ago… did she die, I mean.” Minho wondered timidly, resisting the urge to clasp Jeongin’s hand in his own and press kisses to his knuckles. The things Minho wanted to do to the younger were not who he was. Minho was not domestic, it’s not who he was, but with Jeongin, that’s all he wanted. He wanted the road, and the gentle touches of the younger.

 

“Five years ago. It was a ‘car accident’ apparently.” Minho snapped his head up at that, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as to why Jeongin put air quotes around ‘car accident.’ Jeongin met his gaze, sighing and rubbing his face. “I don’t think it was an accident, hyung. She knew something… the way she spoke those last few days, it seemed as though she knew she was going to die and was preparing me for it.” Jeongin tapped anxiously against the railing, bottom lip between his teeth and Minho turned towards him with a bitter, inquisitive look in his eyes, he needed to know more.

 

“So, who do you think killed her?”

 

“My safest bet?” Minho nodded, “I’d say it was my dad.” Jeongin’s eyes caught the way Minho’s hands gripped the railing tighter until his knuckles were white and Minho was glaring katanas into the town beneath him. Jeongin sighed, reaching one hand out to pat the top of Minho’s lightly, the elder letting out a sigh and removing his relaxed hands from the railing. Minho dug through his pockets, pulling out his lighter and cigarettes and lighting a new one while asking why Jeongin thought the way he did. Of course, Minho had a pretty good idea, but he wanted to hear it from Jeongin himself. The younger glanced at him for a moment, studying the way Minho looked genuinely intrigued by it all and Jeongin broke out into unamused, breathy laughter.

 

“Jesus, hyung.” Jeongin shook his head in disbelief. Why the fuck did Minho care about someone like Jeongin and his dumb situation?

 

Minho must have sensed Jeongin’s doubts, moving forward so he was cupping the back of Jeongin’s head firmly and keeping their eyes locked, “You know I care, don’t you? If I didn’t care, we wouldn’t be here right now. I may not be exactly transparent, but I’m pretty straightforward.” The words had been comforting but bitter all the same. It was nice to know that Minho cared, but Jeongin couldn’t deny his feelings for the elder and that was practically Minho saying ‘if I liked you, you would know.’ but this was just a crush. A dumb crush on a biker who would never see him as anymore than a kid. “Jeongin?”  Minho snapped his fingers in front of Jeongin’s face, dragging him out of his daze with a slight pout.

 

“Stop pouting, hyung. It’s not a good look on you.” Jeongin dismissed Minho’s question with a playful insult. It was still rather untrue though, as Minho’s pout made Jeongin want to kiss it away and he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t his place. So, maybe, and only just maybe, it really hadn’t been a good look on him. Minho chuckled a bit, shaking his head at the pitiful insult and grabbing Jeongin by the back of the collar to drag him back. Jeongin went stumbling into Minho’s chest, letting out an undignified shriek and gripping onto the arms around his upper chest tightly to stabilize himself. “Hyung! Don’t do that!”

 

“You can’t get out of this one so easily, darling.” Minho shoved him back over to the outlook, not cornering him against the railing but not allowing him to go any further to possibly leave the ledge. “Tell me. We’re going to figure this out.” His tone was more serious, firm. Did Jeongin tell him? They hadn’t known each other for more than a few days, but it feels as though they’ve been talking to each other for longer than that. As if Minho has been protecting him for longer than two nights. Jeongin pondered for a while, listening to the soft breathing of Minho, the brustle of trees, and the crickets slowly showing themselves to the world. Jeongin figured that if his father truly cared about him, a missing person’s report would have been put out a while ago.

 

“My dad… he owns a drug cartel. He masks it with his political stance and has everyone else do his dirty work.” Jeongin started, jaw locking, “I think my mom found out about it, and when she confronted him, he killed her.” Something along the lines of both realization and stress flickered across Minho’s expression, the man rubbing his face for a moment as he thought about what he was just told.

 

“And you know about it. Does he know that?” Minho hissed, Jeongin offering him a sad smile with a shake of his head.

 

“If he did… I’d be dead, or at least with my tongue cut out and my fingers cut off as a result of a staged kidnapping. Either way, he’d make sure I couldn’t tell anyone.” Jeongin whispered, and Minho squatted down, face in his hands and cursing to himself. “I shouldn’t have told you -” Jeongin started, making a b-line for the road and beginning to run down it but Minho was a lot quicker, and unfortunately a lot more experienced at chasing after people. Suddenly, they both went stumbling to the ground, Minho pinning Jeongin by the hips and the hands. “Let me go!” Jeongin screeched, squirming out from underneath the biker but Minho’s grip was steel and merciless.

 

“Jeongin, calm down. Calm down -Jeongin!” Minho burst, a silence falling over them as Jeongin’s screeches came to a halt and his squirms faded out. Minho panted heavily from on top of him, but kept his gaze firm, “You’re not going back there, Jeongin. I’m no saint but your father is a bad, bad man, and I don’t feel comfortable knowing that you’re there, unprotected.” The look in his eyes was almost animalistic, and Jeongin couldn’t bring himself to fight it either. In this current situation, what Minho said, goes. “Do you understand me, Jeongin?” The boy frantically nodded his head. Minho rolled off him with a huff, helping him up and off of the ground. “Let’s go get some food and then head back.” Minho grinned and Jeongin’s eyes lit up.

 

Jeongin climbed onto the bike, twining his arms around Minho’s waist and resting his cheek between the elder’s shoulder blades. With a rumble and a growl, the motorcycle started up and Minho began to make his way down the mountain, “Hang on tight.” Minho yelled over the wind, and when he felt Jeongin secure himself to his back, Minho went over 90 hours per hour and Jeongin felt like he was on cloud 9 the whole way down the mountain side. However, before they reached town, Minho came to a slow on his bike. Jeongin’s giggles and breaths sounding like music to his ears. “Did you enjoy that?”

 

Jeongin frantically nodded his head when Minho glanced back at him, a bright smile on his lips, “That was…” Jeongin trailed off, sounding blissful and entirely out of breath, “ _Free_.” Jeongin hadn’t felt that way in his life since his mother passed, and even at that point, it was rare to feel that underneath the pressure of his father’s thumb. Minho nodded, turning back to face the road and driving right back into town.

 

“You should feel like that all the time.”

 

And perhaps Jeongin would feel that with Minho in a few months time.

  
  


“Hey, get up. You have school in an hour.” Jeongin jolted awake with a low gasp, sitting up suddenly and coming face to face with a dressed Minho. The man was hovering over the side of the bed, harboring a worried look, “You okay? It’s just me.” Jeongin let out a breath, holding his face in his hands and nodding in exhaustion. He felt incredibly light headed at the time, weighed down by the burden of lack of sleep and just wanting to fall back into the mattress and escape back into that bleak, but safe world. So, that’s exactly what he did, except he turned over onto his stomach to avoid any sort of light. Jeongin heard a huff before he was hit with a breeze of cold.

 

“Yah! Hyung! Give it back!” Jeongin screeched, curling up in on himself with a pout. Minho rolled his eyes and cradled the comforter and sheet into his arms and made sure Jeongin would have to get up to get it. However, Jeongin rolled over and felt for something in the floor, fingers grasping leather and bringing it up and pretty much curl himself underneath it (Though, it didn’t really work) Minho groaned, dropping the blankets and hoisting Jeongin up into the air and hooking his arms underneath his bare legs and holding him at his mid back.

 

“Nope, nope, nope. Get in there and take a damn shower. It’s a Friday! Get moving.”  Minho grunted, setting Jeongin down so his feet were pressed against the cold tile and shut the door behind him. Jeongin began giggling to himself, taking off the oversized sweater and boxers before climbing into the shower. The boy began humming to himself, soon just out right singing but stopping when the door to the bathroom opened suddenly. “Don’t stop now. I’m just bringing your uniform.” Minho called out over the running water, hovering for a moment as if he was waiting for something. But for what?

 

Minho left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him once more and leaning against it with a sigh. What was he doing? Minho couldn’t answer it, because even he wasn’t all that sure. So, he snapped out of it, swallowing the butterflies in his throat and flicking off the needles in his fingertips before making the bed and slipping his jacket off. It didn’t take long for Jeongin to start singing again and Minho leaned back in the desk chair in the corner of the room with a gentle smile, tapping his pencil along with the beat of the song Jeongin was singing and couldn’t help but nearly fall asleep in his place.

 

Next thing he knew, the bathroom door was opening and Jeongin came out in half of his uniform, still singing but keeping his voice down. Minho wasn’t sure what the younger had been doing, seemingly looking for something. “Where are my socks.” He muttered to himself and Minho reached down to grab a folded pair and throw it at the younger’s head. “Oh. Thanks, Hyung.” Jeongin murmured casually, tossing the clothing item in between his palms as he walked back into the bathroom, paying the elder not even a quick glance. Minho chuckled a bit, shaking his head and counting out his money before heading out the door. “Where are you going?”

 

“I have to go drop something off. I’ll be right back.”

 

When Minho got back, less money in his pocket, Jeongin was sat on the edge of the made up bed and staring at the ground with an empty look in his eyes. The elder walked over, sitting down next to him and gazing at Jeongin with worry. “What’s on your mind?” Jeongin flinched away, too deep into his thoughts to realize that Minho had come back in and sat beside him. He looked dazed when he met Minho’s eyes, not all the way there, but Minho didn’t ask questions. “Your face is healing nicely.” His fingertips reached up and lightly grazed along the healing, scabbed cuts with a soft smile and Jeongin moved his face away from Minho’s fingers. “Everything okay?”

 

Jeongin didn’t say anything, getting up and off of the bed to grab his backpack. “I need to get going. Care to give me a ride?” The smile Jeongin attempted to spare him came out as more of a grimace but Minho didn’t get angry. He was a bit agitated that Jeongin was suddenly giving him the cold shoulder but the boy still asked him to take him to school and that was enough for Minho. The elder nodded his head, grabbing his things before walking out the door behind Jeongin who was waiting patiently by his bike. Minho climbed on first, Jeongin climbing on after, but this time, he didn’t quite hold onto Minho as tightly as he would have before.

 

Minho was kind enough to stop for coffee on their way to the school, even though jeongin emphasized that it was fine if they didn’t. But Minho wanted Jeongin to loosen up a bit, wanted his tense shoulders to relax and the normally bright smile to make a reappearance. “Hey, before you go, I need to talk to you.” Minho spoke up, stopping Jeongin from walking any further. The boy turned in confusion, but the look in his eyes was fearful. Minho sighed, holding his hand out and Jeongin hesitantly approached, taking Minho’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “I’m going out of town for a few days. I’ll be back, don’t worry, but the motel is paid off until next Friday so you can stay. Here’s an extra key.” Minho dangled the extra key in between his fingers.

 

Jeongin slowly took it, a frown on his lips. “Don’t worry, darling, okay? I’ll be back soon. If something happens, please call me. I’ll be here as quickly as I can.” Minho moved their intertwined hands to his lips, nudging the skin but not quite kissing it. “It’s going to be fine. Come here.” Minho smiled, bringing Jeongin into a hug but holding him tightly so Jeongin couldn’t slip away from him when he moved his lips right by his ear. “Look in the dresser, back of the bottom drawer on the right. Only use it when you need to.” Minho pulled away with a hot breath, sending chills down Jeongin’s spine. “Be safe.”

 

“You too, Hyung.”

  


Busan was beautiful, Minho would admit, but he wasn’t here to be a tourist. He was here on business and completely ignored the many looks he received for the leather on his back. But he couldn’t help but see Jeongin in everything there. He was taking over every part of his mind and Minho needed him out. For at least a few hours for the next couple of days. However, as quickly as he was in the heart of the city, he was in the outskirts, pulling up onto a seemingly abandoned warehouse surrounded by metal fences. There was a man at the front, standing guard and Minho pulled up. “Lee Know.” Minho said his name before the man could even get a word out.

 

The gate opened, Minho driving in as if he owned the place and parked his bike near the rest of the groups, pulling off his helmet to approach the group of men by the entrance of the warehouse. “Minho…” A familiar, older, silver haired male with dimples in his cheeks pulled him into a tight hug, patting his back roughly with a slight chuckle. “It’s good to see you, again.” The two pulled away, Minho ruffling Chan’s hair with his fingers.

 

“Good to see you too, Pres. Where’s the VP?” Minho wondered, looking around amongst the group of boys he grew up with and not seeing two of them.

 

“Jisung is off with Seungmin…”  The two shared a look, Minho’s eyes going wide, “Don’t say anything though. I think they’re trying to keep it a secret because well… Seungmin supposedly hates him.” Chan shrugged and Minho’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. “I know, I know, I was going to talk to them about it but with everything going on, I just haven’t had the time.” Minho nodded, placing his hand on the blood brother’s Seoul charter’s president’s back and guiding him into the warehouse.

 

“Speaking of which, we need to talk about that.” Soon, the Seoul and Busan charter gathered around a large table, Minho at the foot of them between the two groups to serve as some sort of wall if things happened to get heated. “Now, before we start making any sudden decisions, I need to know what’s going on.” Chan and Jaebum shared a look before Jaebum leaned forward, hands clasped on the table as he began to explain the situation.

 

“A rival gang here is giving us a lot more trouble than what it’s worth.” Minho raised an eyebrow at this, confused as to why they haven’t just taken them out yet. “They’re smart, though. They’re strategic and always one step ahead of us. That’s why we wanted to call in you guys.” Jaebum explained briefly, but Minho needed more, he needed to know the exact problem and how to approach it, and he voiced those questions. Chan and Jaebum glanced at Minho nervously, before Jaebum cleared his throat. “They’re inferring with our heroin sells. Stealing our normal customers and trying to get us busted at the same time.”

 

A dark look flashed in Minho’s eyes, snapping his gaze to Chan. “Are you fucking kidding me?”  Chan tried to call out to him, but Minho wasn’t listening. How dare they come to him when it involves heroin? How dare they assume that he would just be okay with that even after everything happened with his older sister. The moment the air hit his face, Minho let out an angry grunt before aggressively lighting a cigarette, trying his best to keep himself calm. Minho heard the door to the warehouse open, “Fuck off.” Minho snapped, flinching away from the hand that pressed into his shoulder.

 

“Hyung…” A familiar voice trailed off, one that hadn’t belonged to Chan. Minho glanced over his shoulder to face the younger boy with the mole under his eye. “Come on, Hyung. Let’s talk.” Hyunjin didn’t speak with his natural purr like he did most of the time, and perhaps Minho had been a bit caught off guard, but he didn’t voice it. The two walked over to the table outside the warehouse, Hyunjin sitting across from Minho and pulling out a cigarette of his own. Minho had enough decency to light it but that was about all he offered him. “Listen, hyung, we’re not trying to make you angry or relive bad memories.”

 

“Then what is it then?”

 

“You’re the smartest out of all of us. You have an eye for seeing how things can go wrong and how things can go right. We need you for this. But it’s okay if you want to back out now. The club won’t get mad.” Hyunjin reassured, blowing out a puff of smoke and scratching the tip of his nose with the lower base of his palm. Minho sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking anywhere but the younger’s model like face. “You’ll get good pay out of this.” Minho figured that they were desperate enough to have them if they were mentioning the money because it was well know that Minho didn’t give a shit about the money. This was a brotherhood, and brothers had each other’s backs.  

 

“Fine.”  Minho spat, storming back into the meeting room and sitting in his chair with a huff. Hyunjin came in not long after, Minho’s eyes catching the way his hand lingered on Woojin’s shoulder for a second too long and rolled his eyes. _Were they all dating each other now?_ Minho wouldn’t be surprised. “I’ll help.” Minho cut into the thick silence, Jaebum and Chan letting out breaths of relief. “So, what are we doing, hm? What have you tried?” Minho inquired, and then they fell into discussion. They all agreed that the only way this could go well was to shadow them for a bit, figure out where they resided, what their schedule was, and then strike.

 

“Do we try and go to the police?” BamBam spoke up and Minho was quick to interject.

 

“No. Blood brothers don’t go to the police. We serve our own justice.” Minho snapped and everyone sighed. The mallet hit the block and the meeting was dismissed. Minho was the first one out of the meeting room, and immediately attached himself to the bar. “Whiskey and coke please.” Minho breathed as he climbed onto the stool, downing it as soon as it was given to him. A hand landed on his mid back as a body slid into the seat beside him. “Hey, Binnie. How ya doing?” Minho questioned, seeing the smirking man sparing him a look.

 

“I’ve been alright, hyung.”

 

How the fuck they ended up with Changbin pressed against the wall with his legs twined around Minho’s waist as the elder marked love bites into his skin a few hours later with the moon in the sky was unknown, but Minho wasn’t thinking straight. His mind was clouded and he practically bled alcohol at that point. Changbin pulled and tugged at Minho’s hair harshly, and Minho smirked as he bit down a little too hard on a vein in Changbin’s neck. “Yah! Hyung!” Changbin whined, but Minho paid him no mind and shut him up with a heated kiss.

 

All Minho could see behind his closed eyelids as he kissed Changbin’s chapped lips was the face of the boy from Busan and perhaps that’s why his kissed slowed and his grip softened. Of course, Changbin noticed this shift in mood and touch, and sighed out in realization. “Let me down, hyung.” The younger muttered, and Minho didn’t hesitate to guide Changbin back to the ground. “Come on.” And then Minho was being dragged up onto the rooftop of the warehouse and sat down so he could look out over the city. Minho wished Jeongin could see this. “There’s someone else isn’t there?”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Because you were soft with me in there. And this may sound cocky, but we’ve done that a few times and you were never that soft. And I sure as hell know you don’t have any feelings for me.” Changbin chuckled, running his fingers through Minho’s hair comfortingly. The two were close, and maybe they could have been lovers if they tried hard enough, but something within them told them to keep it as friends and they were going to listen to that. In this type of life, you have to listen to your gut. “So, who is it? Is it a brother?” Changbin wondered, resting his head on the elder’s shoulder and dangling one leg around his left calf.

 

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Minho shook his head with a small smile. “He’s…. He’s something.” Changbin whined at that answer, obviously wanting more details but Minho was scared to tell him. However, Changbin was persistent and Minho had been drinking alcohol. “I don’t even know if I like him. He definitely makes me feel a way that a friend shouldn’t but it’s…. It’s dangerous for us to be together. It could start more problems than I’m willing to deal with.” Changbin hummed in acknowledgement, pondering on what could possibly be the problem before asking the golden question. “He’s 19. He’s a minor.”

 

Changbin whistled, leaning back against the air duct on the roof and shaking his head. “That’s rough man. Please tell me he’s turning 20 soon.”

 

“In a month, graduates in two.” Minho murmured, flickering his lighter on and off and watching the flame dance in the air.

 

“How did that even come about?”

 

Minho clicked his tongue before answering, not quite sure how it happened either. “He’s bullied at school. He showed up outside the motel I’m staying at and I handed him an ice pack and took him out for dinner. He really looked like he could go for a meal at the time and I took him home. Two days later, the night Chan called me actually, I found him again but this time… I was surprised he was even walking.” Looking back on it all, Minho hit himself for not noticing or asking questions the first time he ran into Jeongin. He should have said something, and perhaps he wouldn’t have gone home that night and got beat into the next life, “His father caused those injuries. He’s an abusive little fuck who killed Jeongin’s mother’s murder and will do the same to Jeongin if he finds out that Jeongin knows about it.”

 

They sat in a thick silence, Changbin slipping his hand onto Minho’s thigh and giving it a reassuring slapped. “You wanna hear what I think?” Minho nodded, “I think you’re smitten. I think you’re so smitten you’d do anything for him and you’d protect him until you couldn’t. Even then, you’d still try.” Changbin was good at reading people, and as much as Minho wanted to call bullshit on everything Changbin just claimed, he knew he couldn’t., because it was true. “Wait. If you two are meant to be, than it’ll happen.” and Changbin left Minho to gather his thoughts. Minho, despite his greatest efforts to avoid it, felt for Jeongin, but he just had to confirm it.

 

 _“Hyung? It’s so late.”_ Jeongin whined through the phone and Minho let out a breathy laugh.

 

“I was just checking in. You’re at the motel right?”

 

_“Yeah. Curled up in one of your shirts and cuddling a pillow.”_

 

“Are you just going to keep stealing my clothes?”

 

_“You like it, hyung.”_

 

“You’re right.” A comfortable silence fell over them.

 

_“Is that all, hyung?”_

 

“Yeah, darling. I’m sorry for waking you. Get some sleep.”

 

_“Goodnight, Hyung.”_

 

“Goodnight, Jeongin.”

 

Minho couldn’t deny the way Jeongin’s sleepy voice made him feel. Minho was smitten. Minho was smitten for the younger’s shy smiles, fox eyes, and pretty lips. He was smitten for the way Jeongin slept so peacefully, it took Minho ten minutes to work up the courage to wake Jeongin up. He was smitten for the way Jeongin looked in his clothes and how he wore them without another thought. He was smitten for the way Jeongin played with his fingers and traced over his tattoos when he was nervous or when he needed to calm down. Minho was smitten for Yang Jeongin and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  


Jeongin couldn’t remember much. One minute he was doing his literature homework and the next there were fists banging on his door. Jeongin jumped, hands reaching for the metal piece in the bottom drawer of the dresser and approaching the motel door. However, before he could even get there, the door burst open, a man running inside and tackling Jeongin to the ground. That’s when everything got fuzzy. Because one minute Jeongin was being pinned to the ground and the next a muffled, quiet gunshot went off and the body on top of him went flying back, a bullet wound in his head and Jeongin’s body aching from supposed hits.

 

There was a dull ringing in his ears, his heavy body scrambling back up against the wall as he stared at the limp body on the ground before him. He briefly remembered picking up his cell phone and dialing Minho’s number shakily. He couldn’t even hear his own voice over the ringing in his ears but managed to respond roughly to whatever Minho had been saying to him. The world was dangerous, at least the one Jeongin lived in. He had been minding his own business at the time, just doing his homework swaddled in the scent of Minho and then it all went to shit and Jeongin pulled a trigger.

 

2 hours later, which really felt more like five minutes, the door to the motel opened and a blonde boy with freckles dancing along his cheeks came in, golding a duffel bag. “Are you Jeongin?” His voice was deep, accented but Jeongin didn’t know where it was from. All he could do was stare, open mouthed and skin pale. The man sighed, setting the duffel bag down and approaching Jeongin to kneel down so they were eye level. “Minho Hyung sent me, I’m with the brothers. My name is Felix” The only thing Jeongin heard out of that was Minho and his shoulders slumped against the wall, “He told me to give you this.” And then there was a charm dangling in front of him, a circle with skull with a knife and arrow going through its head and jaw diagonally. He recognized it to be the notorious symbol of the brothers.

 

Jeongin took it out from the blonde’s fingers, rolling it between his fingertips with a dazed look in his eyes. Jeongin was completely unaware of Felix leaving his presence, dragging the dead body off to the bathroom and placing it in the tub. Jeongin could faintly hear the sound of metal cutting through muscle but it hadn’t registered in his head, nothing was. The only thing that seemed to firmly stick in Jeongin’s brain was the symbol in front of him and the sound of a silenced gunshot. “Hey, kid, get up.” Felix’s voice broke through the ringing, but only enough for Jeongin to understand before he was back on his feet. Nothing was working, his nerves fried and limbs numb, so he stumbled forward into Felix’s chest without meaning to and the shorter grunted from his weight. “Jesus.”

 

Jeongin’s back hit the bed, Felix walking back into the bathroom and dragging out two, large trash bags. “I’ll be back.” Jeongin didn’t say anything. Jeongin just killed a man. He was a 19 year old student who just pulled a trigger and took another’s life. But then he remembered something. He remembered that Minho left him that gun. He remembered who Minho was. He remembered what Minho did; and there was no doubt that he had killed his fair share of people as well. Jeongin didn’t know if he found that terrifying or comforting.

 

Felix came back through the door shutting it behind him, and staring at Jeongin for a moment, watching him stare at the amulet with a longing look in his eyes. “I, uh, found this in the man’s pocket.” Felix murmured, approaching the bed and holding out the bloodied piece of paper. Jeongin took it hesitantly, eyes wondering to Felix in a painfully slow manner that told the elder that Jeongin was unclear in his head. It was orders from Jeongin’s father, telling whoever that man was to make Minho disappear and bring him his son back, but obviously that hadn’t worked. “Do you know anything about it?”

 

“It’s my father.” Jeongin muttered, hearing Felix sigh and shift away. Suddenly talking on the phone with who Jeongin would assume was Minho. Jeongin would have jumped at the chance to speak with him, but he was numb. He couldn’t bring himself to beg for the phone, but luckily he didn’t have to, Felix handing him the phone and telling him that Minho wanted to speak with him. “Hyung?”  Jeongin croaked, and he heard a shaky sigh from the other side of the line, “Hyung, I don’t -I can’t -” Jeongin couldn’t even form basic sentences anymore.

 

_“Sh, sh, sh, baby, it’s okay. Everything is going to be fine. Just breathe.”_

 

“Okay.”

 

_“Felix is going to stay with you until I can come back. He goes everywhere you go. I can’t risk another man showing up and trying to hurt you and take you back.”_

 

“Yeah…”

 

_“I can’t stay on long, darling, I’m sorry I can’t be there right now.”_

 

“It’s okay, Hyung.”

 

_“Sleep well, okay? I’ll be back soon.”_

 

“Okay. Goodnight, hyung.”

 

And that was the end. Jeongin handed Felix his phone and turned back over to put his back to the stranger. Felix slipped the prepaid cell phone into his pocket and rubbed his face before trying to get the still wet blood out of the carpet. Jeongin just blocked out the sound with his own thoughts as he stared at the symbol in front of him until his eyes hurt and he had to rest them. However, every time they closed and he was met with the bleak darkness behind his eye ids, it was joined with a gunshot and the darkness replaced by the image of the dead body a few feet away from him. Jeongin didn’t sleep that night, but that didn’t come off as a surprise to him.

 

Jeongin killed a man, and it fucked him up.

  
  


Unsurprisingly, Felix went everywhere with Jeongin. The elder took him to and from school just as Minho used to do but that had been about it considering Jeongin was too afraid to go anywhere. He had to attend school though, to keep anyone from rising in suspicion and it was hell. The bullying hadn’t stopped by any means, if anything it became a bit worse but Jeongin didn’t tell anyone that. He didn’t want to risk the situation getting out of hand. The rumors had been the worst of it all Jeongin believed. He knew they were already spreading with Minho dropping him off at school in the morning, but after he accidently revealed the charm around his neck one day, they seemed to just get more apparent.

 

“It was a wednesday, four days after Jeongin killed the man in the motel, and the school day had dragged on miserably slow. Luckily, nothing had gone out about the man’s death or disappearance, and there hadn’t been any other strange occurrences either. Jeongin wondered if his father hadn’t reported it because of discretion or that he just didn’t know, but he figured it would make it out to public at some point, it was just a matter of when.

 

The final bell rang, shrill but music to Jeongin’s ears, and Jeongin darted out of the classroom and down the hall. Jeongin was pretty damn quick in the hallways now a days, knowing what routes to take and what people to walk around to avoid the regular crowd of assholes that made Jeongin’s life a living hell. However, when he walked out the front gates and expected to see Felix in his regular spot, it hadn’t been Felix or his bike. Instead, it was a familiar, brown haired man and the bike Jeongin had fallen in love with almost two weeks ago. “Holy fuck.” Jeongin whispered, locking eyes with Minho who spared him a smirk.

 

“Hey, darling.” Minho greeted, lent against his bike and arms crossed over his chest as Jeongin approached. The student stared at him for a moment, eyeing the cut along the elder’s cheek and reaching out to graze his nimble fingertips along it. Minho hissed at the contact, shifting his cheek away from him and taking his slimmer hand between Minho’s. “It’s nothing, baby. Don’t worry about it.” Minho murmured, bringing Jeongin’s knuckles up to his lips and brushing them along the skin like he’s done a few times before. No real press of a kiss but this was somehow a lot more soothing. “Wanna go for a ride?”  

 

It was rather amazing how such a simple, short question could make Jeongin’s entire day. The student nodded frantically and Minho chuckled. “Come on, then.” Minho urged, straightening himself on his bike so Jeongin could hop on. Jeongin curled his arms around Minho’s waist, latching onto his back after taking the helmet from the elder and slipping it over his head. “Ready?” As soon as Jeongin nodded, they headed off, the two having hundreds of eyes set on them as they escaped off campus, out of town and up the mountain side. Jeongin missed the rush of the road, he missed the air blowing in his face as he clutched to Minho’s back. He didn’t want to admit it, but Jeongin missed Minho.

 

Soon, they were back up on the cliff side, Jeongin climbing off of Minho’s bike and taking his jacket off to get rid of some of the heat. Minho hovered by Jeongin, taking his backpack from him and holding it until Jeongin told him what to do with it. “Hyung, what’s this?” Jeongin patted the black duffle attached to the back of the bike with a tiny pout. Minho took the bag out from underneath his fingers, throwing it over his shoulder and walking away with Jeongin’s backpack in his other hand. “Hyung, I can take that.” Jeongin reached out, trying to take it from Minho’s grip but the elder moved it so Jeongin couldn’t reach it.

 

“I’ve got it.” Minho murmured with a soft smile, and Jeongin’s stomach did a backflip. The two walked to the bench big enough for three people but still sat relatively close to one another, bags at their feet. “Hungry?” Minho inquired with a grin, Jeongin’s stomach rumbling as an answer. Minho began to dig through the duffle, pulling out multiple different containers. “There was this really good bakery down in Busan. Reminded me of you.” Minho murmured as he pulled out a paper bag with what looked like to be sweets inside. Jeongin cocked his head to the side at that, eyes twinkling in curiosity and muttering out a ‘how so?’ Minho hummed in amusement, reaching up and letting his fingertips dance along Jeongin’s chin, “it was soft and sweet, but not perfect. It had its issues, but it was beautiful.”

 

Jeongin looked away, heart clenching in his chest as he tried to keep the sudden sobs wishing to escape at bay but Minho’s fingers suddenly turned into his palm and everything that had happened a few nights ago finally hit him like a train. Jeongin shoved Minho away, getting up and out of his seat and approaching the railing. Jeongin gripped it tightly, his body trembling, “I killed someone. I killed a man.” Jeongin whispered, over and over again, face draining of all color as tears began to roll down his cheeks. “Don’t touch me!” Jeongin screeched when Minho came up behind him, touching his shoulder. Minho didn’t get angry when Jeongin shoved him away for the second time, a bit agitated yes, but he was more worried than anything.

 

Jeongin began to ramble, Minho not making out anything he had to say while beating and clawing against his own body. Minho could see that Jeongin was panicking, not in a good state of mind. So he inched a bit closer, “Jeongin, listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice.” Jeongin glanced at him, but his eyes weren’t clear and his breathing was uneven. “5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch, 3 things you hear, 2 things you can smell, 1 thing you can taste.” Minho recited, keeping his distance but never breaking eye contact with him personally. “5 things you can see, Jeongin. Breathe.” Minho murmured once more when Jeongin began to look around frantically.

 

“Sky, sun, town, buildings, fence.”

 

“Good. Now four things you can touch.”

 

“Rock, leaves, dirt, leather.” Jeongin’s eyes locked on the leather of Minho’s jacket, Minho handing it over for him to take. Jeongin held it close to his chest.

 

“Three things you can hear.”

 

“Moving trees, birds, cars.”

 

“Two things you can smell.”

 

“Gasoline and cigarettes.”

 

“One more, Jeongin. One thing you can taste.”

 

Jeongin looked around, breathing becoming more stable as he buried his nose into the leather of Minho’s jacket. “Ramen.” Minho scooted a bit closer, not daring to touch him unless Jeongin initiated it first. “Hyung… what does this make me?” Jeongin murmured, never looking Minho in the eye. “You can’t tell me that I’m not a murderer, because I killed him. You can’t tell me that.” Jeongin dismissed Minho’s words before they even came out of his mouth. The elder sighed, holding his palm out for Jeongin to take and the younger took it in his own two, tracing along the flower like he always did when he needed to calm down.

 

“Yes, you’ve killed a man. But that does not make you an awful person. You did what you had to do to survive.” Minho assured, but Jeongin was still shaken up. “Jeongin, Listen to me.” Minho ordered, “this may not be comforting by any means but even if you haven’t registered this already, then you obviously know nothing about the people I run with.” Minho started, “I have killed before. The first time I shot someone, I was 14, and it…. it was a my mom.” Jeongin felt his heart drop, seeing the remorse in his hyung’s eyes. “I’m not trying to say that what I did was okay, but I had to do it. She was a junkie, high off of heroin and very, very angry. We did what we had to do, Jeongin. Period.” Minho cupped Jeongin’s cheeks firmly, looking him directly in the eye.

 

Jeongin nodded, shifting his eyes down and feeling a pair of warm, pillowy lips press against his forehead. “Thank you, Hyung.” Jeongin murmured, pulling Minho in for a tight hug and burying his face in the junction connecting Minho’s neck and shoulder. Minho just buried his nose in the side of Jeongin’s Head, kissing his hair and rubbing his upper back and the back of his head.

 

“I’ve got your back, darling. You’re a friend of the blood brothers and we’ll be damned if you get hurt.”

  


Minho stayed another week, but decided to rent another room due to the memories Jeongin had in the other. It wasn’t too different, just had a bigger bed that was large enough for the both of them. It was a Friday, Jeongin awake before Minho this time and too comfortable to get up and out of bed. Jeongin turned over to face the other man on the bed, Minho’s face buried in the pillow underneath him and his tattoos exposed at the top of his muscled back. Jeongin gulped at the sight, turning over again to face the window so he didn’t get anymore flushed then he already was. Snap out of it, Jeongin. _He doesn’t like you_.

 

Jeongin was snapped out of his daze by the loud screeching of his alarm, a grunt escaping his lips. Jeongin felt Minho shift with a few whines, and suddenly an arm was thrown over his waist. “Do you have to go? I don’t want to get up.” Goosebumps ran down Jeongin’s spine from the hot breath and ghosting of lips across his neck, but Jeongin hid it well. The student rolled his eyes, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and turning the alarm off. However, he didn’t get straight up; he tucked his arm underneath his head and began to scroll through his social media, biting his lip when he came across some of the tweets from one of the school accounts. The minute he saw his name and fag, he turned off his phone and let it drop to the mattress. “Everything okay?” Minho poked, lifting his head out Jeongin’s neck and gazing down at him in worry, even going as far as to tilt the younger’s head up so they were facing each other by the cheek.

 

“It’s fine, Hyung.” Jeongin faked a smile, slipping out of Minho’s grip and causing him to fall to the bed with a whine. “Go back to sleep, I’ll take the bus this morning.” Jeongin cooed, digging around for a fresh towel and a washcloth to shower. Minho sat up at that, yawning and shaking his head. “Seriously, Hyung. You look like you need to sleep for at least a few more hours. I don’t mind taking the bus.” Jeongin insisted but the more Jeongin tried to convince Minho to stay, the more agitated Minho became. “Hyung, I’m not a little kid. I can take care of myself. Stay here and let me take the damn bus.” Jeongin snapped, but immediately regretted it when Minho whipped his head around to face Jeongin, fire in his eyes and a scowl on his exhausted features.

 

“Jeongin! I’m taking you to school, period.” Minho growled, and Jeongin just rolled his eyes, escaping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Minho fell back onto the bed with a huff, rubbing at his temples. It’s not as if he wanted to be controlling, but when Minho woke up that morning, he felt like something was going to go wrong and he wanted Jeongin safe by his side for the day. Minho felt bad for yelling, but he’d make up for it today, he would make sure Jeongin knew Minho was sorry. Minho threw on some clothes, waiting outside on his bike while smoking a cigarette aggressively. When Jeongin came out half an hour later, he tensed up, but didn’t fight it. He knew if he tried to ignore Minho, it would only make the situation worse.

 

Minho took him to the school, grabbing for his wrist before Jeongin could walk off. “Hey, wait.” Minho sighed, sounding genuinely apologetic. Jeongin let out a breath, turning back to face Minho with a pout. “I’m sorry for yelling. I just…” Minho paused for a moment, jaw locking, “I woke up this morning and it felt like something was going to go wrong. I feel like someone is going to get hurt and when you said you’d go to school alone, I panicked.” Jeongin understood that feeling, and as agitated as he was about getting yelled at, he also yelled at Minho. It was a two person thing. “I’m sorry.” Minho hushed and Jeongin offered him a small smile.

 

“It’s okay, hyung. I’ll call you if something happens. Be safe.” Minho grabbed Jeongin by the back of the head and pulled him down to give his forehead a kiss. They lingered like that for a moment, foreheads pressed together and eyes fluttered closed. Minho sucked his bottom lip between his mouth as he glanced up at Jeongin, eyes locking on his pretty pink lips but he couldn’t nudge forward. He couldn’t break that barrier. Not yet. “I should get going. Bye, hyung.” Jeongin coughed, pulling away with his face flushed and heart beating wildly in his chest. Was this a game to Minho? Maybe.

 

“I’ll see you after.”

 

Except, he didn’t. When Minho came back to the school and waited for Jeongin to walk out, he never did. At first, he thought Jeongin was just running late, but after an hour and a few unanswered texts sent the younger’s way, Minho became worried and walked inside. “Can I help you, hon?” An old woman wondered from the desk, kind smile adorning her lips despite seeing the leather on his shoulders. Minho snapped his head around, worry evident in his features and the women softened considerably. “Looking for someone?”

 

“Yang Jeongin? I was his ride home but I haven’t seen him and he hasn’t answered my texts. I’m worried.”

 

“I’m not allowed to give out that kind of information.” Minho’s face dropped, “But…. You seem genuinely worried. His father came and picked him up around noon.”

 

“Shit. Thank you!” Minho yelled out, darting out the door and hopping on his bike. He didn’t care if this was going to go wrong. He didn’t give a shit if this caused a lot of legal problems or ended with minho in jail and Jeongin at that house. Minho was getting him out of that house, one way or another. The house came into view quickly, Minho pulling into the driveway without a second thought, only seeing red when he could hear screams of bloody murder from inside. Minho raced up to it, going to open it but to no surprise it was locked.

 

Minho didn’t have the patience to run into it so kicked the wood right by the knob, the door swinging open and hitting the wall with a loud bang. The screams stopped for a second, a dainty woman running into the hallway to stop Minho but the man pushed past her and waltzed into the lounge, seeing Jeongin pinned down by a man, face purple and hands clawing at the hands around his throat. And then, Jeongin could breathe, but grunts of pain filled his ears and his head lolled off to the side to see his father’s face getting caved in by a pair of fists. “Hyung!” Jeongin called out in a daze, grabbing the elder’s attention.

 

Minho’s head snapped towards him, expression contorting into one of worry but it didn’t last long as Jeongin’s father shoved him off and pulled them both up so he could push Minho against the wall. He threw two punches before a click was heard and everyone halted. Jeongin felt like his head was spinning when he looked down and saw a gun pressed against the base of his stomach. “Get off of me.” Minho spat, the man backing away with his hands up in the air. It was quick, too sudden for Jeongin to register what had happened until a good few moments later, but next thing he knew, Minho had his father pinned to the wall by the throat and the gun pointed in his face. “Jeongin, grab your things.” Minho ordered, never glancing away from the man in front of him.

 

Jeongin raced off upstairs, nearling falling on his way up. “Listen to me, old man.” Minho snarled, inching the barrel of the gun towards his head. “You are going to leave him alone. You are going to leave me alone. If I find out that you’ve hurt him, or have come near him at all, I’ll make your death look like an accident.” A thick silence fell over the room, Minho never shifting his gun away. Jeongin came down with a duffle bag stuffed full of clothes, watching the sight before him with fear. “Go outside and wait for me, Jeongin.” Minho snapped, but it wasn’t towards him per say as he glared right into the boy’s father’s eyes.

 

“Okay… Don’t do anything rash, Hyung.” Jeongin murmured, and left the house with stumbling footsteps and heavy breaths. Minho left not long after with bloodied knuckles and murder evident in his eyes, but softened considerably when he saw the panic in Jeongin’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, hyung, I tried to leave or text you but he caught me and started to…” The boy trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut, flinching away slightly when he felt finger tips stroke along his cheeks. Jeongin peeled his eyes open, meeting borderline empty ones of Minho.

 

“Let’s go.” Jeongin wasn’t all that surprised that they ended up leaning against the railings of the outlook, but this seemed… bitter almost. “Listen, Jeongin.” This is where Minho tells him he doesn’t like him, that Jeongin is just a kid with too many problems and that they were never going to see each other again. “You mean a lot to me. You make me feel a way I shouldn’t be feeling, and as much as I wish I can stay here and treat you like the prince you are, I can’t.” Jeongin’s head was spinning, his stomach churning when Minho’s hand slipped onto his knee. “I’m leaving Wednesday.” Minho murmured and Jeongin tensed.

 

“So you’re just going to leave me here?”

 

“No, no, no, but I can’t take you with me. I’m renting you an apartment. Somewhere you can live for the next two months until you graduate and focus on your studies without worrying about your family. You’re not going to be alone, I promise. I’ll be back. That is, if you want me back after all of this.”

 

Jeongin glanced up at Minho in disbelief. “Of course I want you back, Minho. How could I not?” It didn’t need to be said as to why, his eyes said it all. Minho was his savior, his eye opener, his knight in shining armor. “But an apartment? Hyung, you don’t have to. That’s really expensive.” Jeongin insisted but Minho merely kissed him on the cheek. 6 days later, Minho left Jeongin in an empty apartment with a promise of his return, but Jeongin was doubtful. He will always be doubtful.

  


Two months went by painfully slow, but it was peaceful. The bullying went down the closer exams came around and Jeongin’s apartment was safe haven for the student. The two hadn’t spoken since Minho’s leave, and when Jeongin straightened his tie while he stood in line waiting for the ceremony to start, Jeongin felt alone. He had no idea if Minho had actually shown up or not, and he wouldn’t until the end and he came out into the crowd to look for him as everyone else reunited with their families. Jeongin’s hadn’t been anywhere in sight, never contacting him again after the whole encounter with the blood brother.

 

The ceremony was quick, Jeongin going up towards the end and shaking the hands of the professors and his headmaster who never liked him and walking off with a feeling of freedom in his heart. Jeongin looked around desperately, just wanting to see that beautiful face but the only thing he was met with were the faces of people Jeongin hated with his entire being. Then, Jeongin was suddenly in a kdrama, locking eyes with a pair of playful ones and then he was running. He was running full speed ahead towards Minho who was holding a large bouquet of flowers and opened his arms in preparation. As said before, it was the most cliche thing to ever been seen, Minho catching Jeongin and twirling him around in the air.

 

“What are we in? A cliche movie?” Jeongin snorted as soon as his feet hit the ground, but Minho just smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

 

“We have to seal the deal.”

 

“And how do we do that, hyung?”

 

“With a kiss.” And then, after almost 3 months, their lips sealed and they couldn’t be happier. Minho cupped the back of his neck, weighing the kiss a bit more. Jeongin pulled away for a moment, looking up at the elder expectantly as if he was waiting for Minho to blow up in his face and tell him he was disgusting for even wanting to kiss him. Except it never came. Minho just smiled softly and shifted his head for another kiss. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for that?” Minho questioned and Jeongin snorted.

 

“Probably not any longer than I have.” Jeongin challenged but Minho couldn’t bring himself to argue. He was addicted to the way Jeongin’s lips tasted. “Hyung!” Jeongin giggled against his lips when Minho sucked on his bottom lip, placing his hands on Minho’s chest to nudge him away. “Not here. I can feel their glares.” Jeongin murmured shyly, glancing around with paranoia in his eyes. Minho wanted to reassure him right then and there that he shouldn’t be worrying about what people think, but he presumed it really wasn’t the time or place. So, he handed over the bouquet with a smile. “They’re so beautiful, hyung.”

 

“I’m glad you like them.”

 

Jeongin didn’t realize how much he missed the road until he got onto the back of Minho’s bike and latched himself into the familiar curve of Minho’s back. The drive back to the apartment was speedy, but slow. Minho didn’t go too fast so they could enjoy their time together in the wind, but eventually, they had arrived back to the apartment but they didn’t mind too much. “You’ve really spruced up the place. It looks nice.” Minho complimented, shutting the door behind him and setting the duffle bag on the floor. Jeongin grinned, peeling off his jacket and setting it down on the couch. Minho stood around for a moment, not sure what to do.

 

“Hyung, stop looking so uncomfortable. You literally pay for this apartment. It’s _your_ apartment.” Jeongin pointed out and Minho chuckled, shaking his head and plopping down on the couch. Jeongin escaped back into his bedroom, but came back out with a shy look in his eyes. “Are any of your clothes clean…” He trailed off and Minho rolled his eyes, getting up to sift through his bag. Minho threw an oversized sweater his way and Jeongin took it gratefully. When Jeongin came back out after changing into the sweater and a pair of boxers, Minho was lying down on the couch, changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and staring at the TV.

 

Jeongin paced over, not laying down until he had the go. “Come on, baby.” Minho hushed, opened his arms and Jeongin laid himself down on Minho’s chest, intertwining their legs. “I missed you.” Minho whispered, running his fingers through Jeongin’s hair gently and placing his other hand on the small of Jeongin’s back underneath the sweater. Jeongin blushed, burying his face into the elder’s shoulder and grinning like a mad man. “So cute.” Minho cooed playfully and Jeongin slapped at his sides with a groan. “I have something I want to give you.” Minho grunted, shifting his body so he could reach down into his duffle bag. Jeongin sat up, straddling Minho’s thighs and glaring down at him in wonder.

 

“Close your eyes.” Jeongin followed, “hands out.”

 

“You’re not about to pull some nasty shit are you?”

 

“No! God no, baby!” Minho whined and Jeongin began giggling uncontrollably. Once he calmed down, he felt the familiar feeling of leather hitting his hands and Jeongin felt his heart speed up. “Open.” It was a leather jacket, much like the one Minho had but more acquainted to Jeongin’s size. The shoulders had black spikes along it and there were zips at the sleeves, but the thing that caught his attention was the symbol on the back, but the words missing. “I know you’re not a blood brother, but with the symbol on your back and not the letters means you’re still protected. You don’t have to wear it, but I just thought that -” Minho was cut off by a hungry pair of lips, the elder humming in both surprise and content.

 

Their lips danced together, hands roaming the other’s bodies. It was a nice kiss, heavy and passionate, and they were addicted. They were addicted to the feeling of each other’s lips. They were addicted to each other’s touches. They were addicted to the adrenaline pumping in their veins when they joined. They were addicted to each other. “Thank you, hyung. For everything.”

 

The two would go onto leave three months later, finally hitting the road for the first real time. They waited for their lease to run out and had a decent plan on where they were going to go, and then they left without looking back. Five years later, Minho and Jeongin arrived to Seoul and rejoined the charter, Minho becoming their main planner and Jeongin their deal maker. Jeongin made great friends with Felix, who just so happened to be dating the President of the charter, and became like a younger brother to Changbin who talked to him and Minho about their relationship problems 25/8 and fixed them as well.

 

Minho finally found his partner, someone who shared the same love he had for both his bike and the road, and Minho couldn’t be more at peace.

  
  
[[Moodboard](https://twitter.com/atumun15/status/1012664634250334208)]  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
